


Bad bad maquis? Or how to crash and burn in style.

by TrekDr



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Bad bad ensign meme, Crashing with style, F/M, Oh yes that bad ensign sex game, Tuvok running interference, Well sort of eventually, a bit irreverent really, chakotay frustration, hopefully humorous, maquis leathers, oh and a side order of janeway bingo along the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-23 12:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18549373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekDr/pseuds/TrekDr
Summary: Following Harry's mishap (see Bad Ensign by Curator) and the interrupted seduction scene between Kathryn and Chakotay (see Bad, Bad Crewman Janeway by sara_sedai), And Tuvok’s meddling ( see not so bad tuvok by caladenia) Kathryn Janeway makes a decision.A fun AU in someone else’s imaginarium in the ST:Voyager world.





	Bad bad maquis? Or how to crash and burn in style.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Not So Bad Tuvok](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18484012) by [Caladenia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caladenia/pseuds/Caladenia). 
  * Inspired by [Bad, Bad Crewman Janeway](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17999984) by [sara_sedai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_sedai/pseuds/sara_sedai). 
  * Inspired by [Bad Ensign](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17604374) by [Curator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curator/pseuds/Curator). 



His PADD messaged 21:00 holodeck. Tactical brief - Val Jean 1. Clothing - Appropriate combat gear.  
She was already off the bridge, in engineering, unavailable to answer any of the questions currently raised. 

Typical Kathryn.

And... appropriate combat gear? Damn! but she has always been good at writing on several levels. He wonders what particular kind of combat she is considering. It gives him plenty to daydream over whilst maintaining a stern command appearance, interspersed with ‘settling down’ the terrible two whenever they get out of hand - usually identified when Tuvok’s eyebrow reaches the stratosphere.

The rest of the shift nearly passed uneventfully. Unfortunately, just before the shift change he saw the evidence that some of the senior staff just could not leave well alone. Damn! He noticed the all hands message from Tuvok recommending that ‘red alert’ be changed to ‘stand down’ to avoid shipwide confusion. To his amusement, he also noted the exact time Harry read this message at the ops station from the staggering amount of blushing his face could achieve. Then followed the snort from Tom.

As if choreographed, he then could calculate the speed at which everyone, yes everyone on the bridge, understood the implied subtext and looked at him. 

Thankyou tuvok. Command mask in situ and holding.

‘Janeway to Tuvok’ He nearly choked. That woman will be the death of him one day. The Vulcan though, he was so dead. Yep, even over the com badge there was the icy voice and one could only imagine the baleful force 10 glare that accompanied it. That he disappeared into the ready room accompanied by the sound of Paris’s laugh just added emphasis.

Ha!

‘Eyes on the road Paris’ he remonstrated with quiet menace. Instant compliance.

He hoped Kathryn cut the damned Vulcan to pieces. Would she back out now? Or pretend it was never going to be what he hoped. It was damned hard keeping his face serene whilst he frustratedly worried around the question. Good thing he had had years of practice. The damned woman and her crazy... recklessness.

Watching Tuvok leave the bridge at a rapid pace, clearly called to account, slightly improved his mood. 

Slightly.

damnit! 

-0-0-0-

‘Well, all or nothing’ he decided as he dressed. Combat gear indeed. Maquis tight leather pants and a more free shirt. He knew she hated the vests, but it didnt seem right without. He couldn’t stop the smirk at the thought of playing bad crewman to her maquis captain. She had certainly been very ... forward ... in her playing. That allowed him a lot of leeway. He just hoped that she wouldn’t call a ‘stand down’ too soon.

This was a dangerous game though. She had never allowed the flirting to get so far, so physical. Was it time? Had they survived the odds long enough for her to finally risk crossing those boundaries and throwing caution and protocol to the wind.

The ‘dear John’ letter hadn’t given him the opening he had hoped, but now, with the passing of the years, he was sure their command structure was strong enough to weather a more personal relationship. The crew was pretty much gunning for it to happen, and losing each other now would be disastrous, with or without the relationship. he was fairly certain that Starfleet, an alpha quadrant away, would be pragmatic over on board relationships, and he didn’t care one way or the other. Maybe it was the time to give this a push, remind each other of what lay between.

With this rather positive bit of encouragement, he left his quarters at a brisk walk to the holodeck. Luckily he met no-one on route, as the swagger combined with his difficulty maintaining an unenthusiastic mask would have been easily misinterpreted. Well, correctly interpreted.

So, it was a douche of the coldest water when he saw Kathryn outside the holodeck dressed in what appeared to be a preposterous Vulcan ceremonial coat. Blast those Vulcans. Even when they weren’t with you they could douse all romantic fervour.

Damnit!  
Has he misread her intentions? I rewinds their last ‘bad ensign’ and the flirtation that has happened since. The explicit instructions about maquis captains wearing lots of leather. If this is her idea of a tease! He growls internally with frustration, the perpetual frustration. Honest to Andoria, but he won’t play this game much longer. One way or the other, this... banter... something, needs to be resolved.

Damnit!

She turns to smile at him whilst Ayala and Dalby walk out clearly having sweated over some exercise programme or other. Damnit again! They will be news of the ship, and that be damned betting sweepstake will start again and Kathryn will go into reverse faster than a Ferengi leaving a profit less venture.

He nearly misses Kathryn’s informal chat with them, enquiring after their programme, their health and then laughing that they have a programme of Tuvoks to run, around infiltration and trust building. She rolls her eyes, asking them whether Tuvok tortures them too with special training programmes, and as they nod, then laughing and admitting his programmes beat anything the academy put together. That it is good to keep on their toes and not get complacent.

She looks at him and winks, ‘we wouldn’t want to be complacent would we Chakotay!’ All in that slightly sultry tone that he cannot ignore. Damn her! And he wonders whether his blush outdoes that of Kim and sighs. 

The laughter engendered signals to Ayala and Dalby to leave, clearly having caught sight of the holoprogramme initiated, Tuvok authorised and all, and Kathryn none too gently pulls him into the holodeck.

‘Come on commander, lets put our costumes to good use’ and then in a quieter whisper ‘honestly Chakotay! Blushing!!! That sure was smart! No tongues will be wagging at all, no none!’ Enhanced by a dramatic eye roll and a huff of indignation. If he was playing ‘janeway bingo’ which of course he doesn’t and instead puts Paris and Rollins regularly on report for doing so, he would be half way to house.

He views the materialising bridge of the Val Jean with the demeanour of the long suffering. SO this is indeed a Tuvok programme. No wonder Tuvok adapted to the Val Jean so quickly if he had been training on a holodeck version. Which damned spy gave away so much info... Paris! He would break his neck... except.  
Damnit!

And all thought leaves his brain as Kathryn shrugs off the Vulcan robes.  
‘You didn’t really think I was wearing those did you?’ She laughs at him as his jaw narrowly misses smashing into the floor.

-0-0-0-  
He tries to catch his breath but fails. She is laughing at him, delighting in his response to her version of maquis leathers. Terran crossed with early Starfleet maquis leathers he thinks. She has a red possibly velvet mini dress reminiscent of the old Kirk days, paired that with some allegedly maquis bodice in black leather, reinforced and, well, emphasising er... well... ok breathe chakotay, damnit! Breathe! Laced at the front. He knows they are going to be stockings, but the black boots, with trademark killer heels go up to mid thigh. Since the flouncy skirt on that dress barely covers her much ogled ass, he is in trouble.

Big trouble.

When she puts her hand on hips and poses in that ‘bridge brooking no dissent’ manoeuvre, he nearly forgets himself and shouts ‘bingo’

Luckily he doesn’t, he just eyes her up and down with a small smirk. Damn but she is just perfect. He loves her. He has no choice, he loves her and periodically would strangle her. But not now, oh no! Not now. 

He goes to move towards her, and start his bad ensign best, but she instead initiates the programme. What is she playing at now!  
Damnit woman!

‘Lose the vest Chakotay and take the conn’ she raises an eyebrow in challenge, and the devil in him responds  
‘Yes ma’am’ to her delighted chuckle.

He peels of his vest with slow deliberation, and throws it to the corner of the command deck, such as it is on the valjean, and loosens the top ties of his shirt whilst dimpling a grin at her.

Striking a challenging pose at her, he allows her eyes to roam his body at will. ‘Like what you see?’ He challenges, knowing that she does. He grins more when she husks back ‘you are in dereliction of duty crewman. At the conn. Now!’ Whilst running her tongue over her lower lip before biting it.

Unfortunately, this is where it all goes to hell in a hand basket, from his perspective. The Val jean shakes, and they are being fired on by a galor class cardassian ship.

‘Damnit!’ He explodes, whilst she laughs and takes tactical. 

‘Let’s punch our way through! You want me? You win me!’ And she leans close enough that he thinks she might even kiss him, before she returns to the consul, hands flying as she lets rip with the torpedos 

‘you know we don’t have many of those?’ He laughs at her ferocity, even as it fires him

‘well then, we had better make this quick, if you want to get your eyes on this prize’ damnit but she is at her most imperious yet confident best,

And with that as his motive it is true that he flies that damned ship better than he has ever done before. It looks like some role play is in order. Whilst she whoops and cackles, peppering the enemy with fire with deadly precision he turns and banks the craft giving her the best angles of sight, and denying the enemy a chance to hit. What a team. Spirits he loves her.

He loves it, the scenario, being at her side, the whole shebang. Maybe she knew he would. Fighting beside her is exhilarating. It is a high like nothing else. He could do this for the rest of his life, well maybe he will. His moves and her tactics and firing has the galor class ship outmanoeuvred at every turn. 

When a canny fire hits and disables the enemy shields he cannot help but say it.

‘Damnit, I love you kathryn’ consequences be damned

And in that moment, he catches her eye and they just grin happily at each other. Revelling in the fight, in the togetherness, in the closeness. This is their moment, he knows it, is sure that she feels it too. This is them at their best, working together, winning together. With her at his side, he feels that he could do anything, it is a powerful feeling

a sharp manoeuvre later and he suddenly catches on. Damnit, he has been completely conned! This is no re-match. This is a seduction, this is Kathryn and Kathryn wanting him. The teasing, the scenario, it is all perfect for him and for them as a first date. Reminding him of how perfectly they work together, the exhilaration and the force of connection between them, all that they can be. 

the battle has him temporarily distracted, but it has achieved the purpose. He is fired up, he wants her, and he has the courage, the impetus and the implied request to take this further. He goes to admit this to Kathryn, who has tucked her hair behind an ear and is still cursing in Klingon the galor ship whilst using the last of the fire. The flush of battle spreads from her face down to where her cleavage is heaving. Distracted by her, he fails to take the evasive action required and the enemy gets in a lucky hit, taking out one of the nacelles.

‘damnit chakotay! We’re going down! ‘ she yells, propelling him back into the present with a jerk

And as he wrests the val jean into landing on a handily appearing moon in a trail of debris, they both laugh until tears stream from their eyes. 

-0-0-0-

‘Chakotay! You have crashed... again!’ As she throws her head back and laughs ‘what will Tuvok say!’

He growls back at her ‘you distracted me!’ And as she spins her chair to face him, he stands and lopes towards her, tugging his shirt open more. No more the tame commander, but a maquis warrior, her equal.

He radiates machismo 

Her laughter dies on her lips, and instead he can see the flare of arousal in her eyes. The time for games is over. She has played her game, made her decision, and it is time for her to know his.  
Damnit, but she is all he wants.

She leans back in her chair, he can see her wriggle, she wants him. He senses that she is about to speak, perhaps start the bad ensign trope, but he is having nothing of it.

‘No Kathryn, no games, no faux seduction. It is time. I love you, I would lay down my life for you. I am no bad ensign, but the best XO that you could have and will ever have. I am also the best lover that you would ever have. You know the first, and it is time for me to show you the second.’

He sees the surprise in her eyes. She was ready to be seduced, and maybe, just maybe backtrack on it as a game. But he has called her on it.

‘So Kathryn’ he towers over her ‘what will it be, hold fast to protocol leave what is between us to die and turn to ash, or let it burn and warm us. We are soulmates, made to pair each other. We both know this. Our work pairing - he waves at the consuls - is exemplary, consolidated and can take this. Our crew bet with hope on this outcome whenever they can, it wont cause disharmony in the ranks. Starfleet is too far away for me to care, and I imagine they will be pragmatic.’ He can see from her slight smile that she had always planned to say yes. But she wants him to work for it, to woo her, persuade her.

He drops to a crouch before her, eyes level, and takes her hand to place on his chest. Gazing into her eyes ‘you have my heart, my loyalty, my life. Let us share our passion and our lives fully. It is time’

Sometime back the levity left him. This is everything. He leans forwards to her and as her hand slips up around his neck and is joined by the other his enwrap her and slide her forwards into his embrace.

Their first kiss is more of a breath of mouth against mouth. A tremble on the cusp of something enormous and all encompassing. The barest touch becomes a gentle press, a moan, and a parting before reconnecting in full blown passion.

His hands in dragging her forwards on the seat have left the skirts of that damned delectable dress behind, and his hands are roaming. Hers have made short work of tearing open his shirt. 

Despite his oft held fantasy of her and the bridge, loving is about giving and receiving. He wants this first night to be a gift so enticing that it blows out of the water any thought of replacing barriers later. His loving will be a tricobalt device to her damned protocols, though he is fairly sure they are already in tatters.

At some point her legs have wrapped around him, in as much as those damned boots will let them, and so it is little effort for him to lift her and move to standing. Their kiss breaks, for breath and to moan each other’s name, seeking reassurance.

‘It is time to acquaint you with the captains quarters’ he says, and sets off with her in his arms.

So close, it is hard not to restart the kissing, and he is relieved that the val jean has been accurately recreated in that he can find his way to his quarters with his eyes closed. As they are, or the way is obscured by Kathryn in his vision. It takes a while, and some pressure against several bulkheads as he grinds against her whilst kissing the hell out of her. In fact, he nearly forgets his plan to take things slowly and rapturously when her encouragement nearly makes him lose his mind with need.

‘Damned woman’ he growls at her ‘we’ve waited this long, we can wait a few paces more’  
At no time does he remember this is the holodeck, and order the change of the programme to the quarters, something she will tease him mercilessly for.

But now, quarters arrived at, they both take a moment to savour the change, from best friends to lovers. Not a capitulation to the inevitable, but a celebration. Then he makes very certain of his claim to be the best lover she will ever have.

-0-0-0-

It turns out that Ayala and Dalby weren’t much fooled. And although Tuvok took great delight in running them through a training programme for the scuttlebutt they thought they had anonymously posted, the share of the betting pool rations kept them happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve not added on to someone’s work before, and I may have gone about this all wrong, or not followed convention, in which case i apologise! I can withdraw the work, or you can tell me how i should do it/tag it! Ty.  
> [and yes, it is J/C, like some others! But I had already imagined most of it out! And then i went on holiday, and now i am wondering whether i should publish or leave as there are all the others that are fab.]


End file.
